All Chapters of Lustful Tales: A Collection of Passionate Oneshot Romances: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“We’re just getting started on your punishment, little maid,” Lord Edmund murmured, his voice dark velvet as he caressed my tear-streaked cheek with false gentleness. I knew better than to trust that softness. His eyes were calculating, hungry, like a wolf that had finally cornered its prey after weeks of teasing. He wiped the dried tears from my eyes with his thumb, never breaking eye contact. Then his fingers moved skillfully to his neck, loosening his tie with deliberate slowness. The silk whispered as he pulled it free. “Turn around.” I obeyed before my mind could even protest. Kneeling on the carpet with my back to him, I felt incredibly vulnerable. His hands glided over my shoulders and down my front, tugging the front of my nightdress down until my breasts spilled out into the cool night air. My nipples hardened instantly from the chill and sheer nervousness. I shivered. Before I could react, he wrapped the tie around my wrists, binding them tightly behind my back. The silk

The crisp morning air filtered through the open curtains, but it did nothing to cool the heat still lingering on my skin. My entire body felt tired and spent — deliciously used. Lord Blackwood had taken me on every surface in this grand room last night. On his desk where he worked, bent over like a common whore. Against the wall until my legs gave out. Even pressed against the tall window where anyone could have seen if they looked up at the right moment. I could still hear his growled words echoing in my mind. “This cunt was made for your lord.” And when I was shaking, begging him to stop after so many rounds: “You’re doing so beautifully for me, my little pervert maid.” I hid my face in the pillow, cheeks burning with embarrassment as I remembered how I had confessed — in the middle of being fucked senseless — that I had taken this job just to be close to him. He had laughed darkly and replied, “Shhh… don’t worry. It was all worth it. You get to be fucked by me now.” A warm, he

It had been a little over three months since Mom married Richard, and to say my life was a disaster would be a massive understatement. After they came back from their honeymoon, they hosted a small family dinner to celebrate. I went out of obligation and regretted it the second I walked through the door. The entire evening, I kept catching Greg’s eyes on me. Hidden glances. Lingering stares. It was so wrong for him to look at me like that… and even worse that part of me liked it. Every family gathering after that, he found ways to get close. Sitting next to me at the table. Brushing his hand against mine when passing plates. Making comments that sounded innocent but felt anything but. I started avoiding everything I possibly could. Which brought us to now. “Why can’t you attend?” Mom asked over the phone, sounding genuinely sad. I was crouched on the floor of my tiny apartment, half-heartedly wiping dust off the baseboard like it was the most important task in the world. “Because

I stood in front of the tall skyscraper, staring up at it like an idiot. This was Greg’s office — all glass and steel, looking like it cost more than my entire life savings. After the family dinner, he had sent me the address and a very specific dress code. I had already quit my old job. It was a terrible place, but at least there I didn’t have to worry about getting fucked senseless by my boss. “Hi,” I said to the secretary at the front desk, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I’m here for the position as Mr. Greg Marshall’s new personal assistant.” She looked me over, typed something quickly, then pointed toward the elevators. “Top floor. Knock on the large door and wait. Mr. Marshall will see you.” I followed her instructions, stomach twisting the entire way up. When the elevator doors opened, I noticed something immediately: most of the female employees were in pants or professional trousers. I was the only one stuck in a black skirt that stopped just above the knee. O

He kissed me even more furiously than before, like he was trying to fuse our mouths together. I could only whimper as he took full advantage, tongue diving deep, claiming every part of me. It felt like drowning in the best way. When he finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva still connected us. I was breathing hard, chest heaving. “You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting this,” he said, voice rough as he stroked my arm. “Jump.” I didn’t think. I jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist. He carried me inside and kicked the door shut behind us. He set me on the cool kitchen island, mouth never leaving my neck — sucking, biting, marking me in places I’d have to hide tomorrow. He pulled my shirt off in one motion and tossed it aside. I was left in my lacy bra and shorts. The cool air made my nipples harden instantly. He stared at me like he wanted to devour me whole. “Would you look at this,” he groaned, biting his lip. “You wore this underneath those clothes all day?” His han